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Trishnavi's POV ──── ♡

Vrindavan had always been the rhythm of my breath - the dust beneath my feet, the flute that calmed every unrest in me. And Krishn... He was not just my deity. He was my Arya. My pati. My companion in all lifetimes.

People thought it was madness. I called it param prem.

I wasn't chasing a love story. I was already living in one... even if the other side had no face yet. My mornings began with His murti, and my nights ended whispering my secrets into the breeze that passed through the Tulsi van.

"Maa, aaj tulsi fresh laayi hoon... Radha Rani ke charanon mein pehli baar chadhayungi," I said as I gently untied the sacred leaves from the cloth I'd wrapped them in.

"Arey meri Radha Rani, tu toh har kaam mein itni shraddha daalti hai... Bhagwan bhi khush ho jaayein," Maa smiled, placing the marigold baskets into her cane tokri.

I smiled, but my heart... my heart was busy conversing with Him.

"Arya... aaj Radha Ashtami aane waali hai. Iss baar koi toh leela kar do... mujhe dikh jaayein aap... kisi bhi roop mein."

I wasn't sure if He listened, but my viswas never trembled.

After setting everything in the temple for the morning puja, I knelt before the murti, resting my forehead against the cold marble. My fingers touched the flute in Krishna's hand as if He might play it any moment.

But instead, something stirred in the air.

Something that felt like a soft tug... as though Vrindavan itself whispered - He is coming.

⋆˖↬ Mukund's POV

It was strange. I had everything.

Luxury, fame, respect... Yet the peace I sought never came to me in boardrooms or at five-star wellness retreats. I craved something ancient, pure... something that touched the soul, not just the senses.

So when Papa suggested I visit Vrindavan for the upcoming Radha Ashtami sponsorship event, I agreed before he could finish.

"Main jaaunga. Tum sab mat chalo. Mujhe akele... kuch feel karna hai."

And honestly, I didn't know what I was searching for. But the moment my car crossed the Yamuna bridge, I felt it - like I'd entered a different time, a different dimension.

Kids ran barefoot, peacocks wandered free, and the scent of mogras and mitti replaced my usual office cologne.

At the Radha Damodar Mandir, the crowd had already started to gather. A spiritual buzz tingled in the air. My eyes scanned around as I stepped out of the car.

And then...

I saw her.

White cotton kurti, dupatta dancing in the wind, her eyes downcast as she arranged diyas at the temple threshold.

But it wasn't just her beauty. It was her aura - still, soft, powerful. Like a prayer made real.

"Mukund beta, andar chalo. Aaj ki pooja bahut khaas hai," Pandit Vasudev Tripathi greeted me.

I folded my hands respectfully. "Jee, main bas... thoda der yein rehna chahta hoon."

When I looked back at her, she was coming closer - with a thali in hand. The diya flickered as she moved, its light reflecting in her eyes.

Then her gaze lifted. Our eyes met.

For a moment, the temple sounds faded.

She raised her hand slowly, dipped her finger in roli, and placed the tilak gently on my forehead.

"Radha Rani ki kripa sadaiv bani rahe," she murmured, her voice like a mantra.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But words failed me.

Who was she?

Why did it feel like I had waited lifetimes for that one tilak?

I turned to go inside, but kept glancing back. She'd already moved on to the next devotee.

But that one moment... had shifted something inside me forever.

⋆˖↬Trishnavi's POV

Uske aane ki hawaa alag thi. Maine mehsoos kiya tha... jaise Vrindavan ki ghantiyaan uske kadam pe chal rahi ho.

Par jab usne aankh uthakar mujhe dekha... ek pal ke liye sab kuch rukh gaya.

"Aankhen... itni shaant thi unki... jaise Yamuna ka jal. Aur tilak ke samay jo kampan mere haathon mein aayi... kya woh unka pehchanna tha?"

Main apni diary lekar ghat par chali gayi.

I always came here after the temple crowd dissolved.

Sitting by the Yamuna, I dipped my feet in the water, opening my diary slowly.

"Aaj ek naya mehmaan aaya. Naam nahi pata, par aankhon mein kuch tha... jaise Arya ne mujhe dekha ho. Par main bewakoof nahi hoon. Mujhe pata hai, mera prem ek tarafaa hai. Aur shayad hamesha rahega."

I closed the diary with trembling fingers.

"Arya, agar yeh koi leela hai... toh kripya aap mere mann ko majboot banayein. Main bas aapki hoon."

⋆˖↬Mukund's POV

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I had dozens of business calls waiting, but my mind kept going back to the girl with the diya and the peacock feather in her hair.

"Kaun thi woh? Uske haathon ka tilak... mere dil tak kyun aaya?"

I'd met thousands of women - powerful, confident, poised - but this girl? She had spoken just one sentence. Still, she left a storm behind.

I opened my travel journal, a habit I'd picked up recently.

"Aaj mujhe pata chala... shaanti milti hai jab aankhon se pooja hoti hai. Naam nahi jaanta us ladki ka. Par lagta hai... Radha Rani ne mujhe unse mila diya hai kisi wajah se."

I closed the book, heart beating fast.

Maybe this trip wasn't about the event after all.

Maybe... this was my beginning.

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Bolo bolo... kya tumne kabhi kisi anjaane ko dekha aur laga ho, "Woh toh mera hai"?
Trishnavi ne toh apne Arya ko pooja... lekin kya Mukund bhi uske is ek-tarfa pyaar ka part banega?
Ya fir yeh bhi Vrindavan ki ek aur adhoori leela ban jayegi?

This is just a glance yrr.. Next part will be written when the hearts will crave... Jab dilon mei hoga leelaon ka vaas... So are you ready?

To be continued... 🩵🌸

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~ Sia✨